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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140323">If It Should Chance to Be We Should See Some Harder Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearNoEvil/pseuds/FearNoEvil'>FearNoEvil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Joly Week [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Friendships, Gen, Joly Week 2021, Rescue Missions, Soup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:49:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearNoEvil/pseuds/FearNoEvil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On a quest to rescue Bossuet from his latest misfortune, Joly encounters another friend in desperate need of dinner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marius Pontmercy &amp; Joly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Joly Week [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If It Should Chance to Be We Should See Some Harder Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written fro the prompts "Sharing a Meal" and "Lucky" for Day 2 of Joly Week 2021! My mind went in some interesting directions with these prompts, but hopefully it's a nice story anyway!</p>
<p>Today's (interminable) title comes from the song "Consider Yourself" from Oliver! (And now I've been listening to Oliver! while writing/planning Les Mis fic so much that Dodger's "Consider Yourself" seems like a song either Gavroche would sing to his little brothers or that Bossuet &amp; Courfeyrac would sing to Marius, and Nancy's "It's a Fine Life" also feels like something Bossuet would sing; with Joly chiming in with the line "Though diseased rats threaten to bring the plague in" from the next room!) I decided just for fun to have the titles of several of my Joly Week works be lyrics from some of my favorite musicals other than Les Mis, and Oliver! I think is very underrated, and has some very interesting parallels with Les Mis! Gavroche vs. Dodger! Nancy vs. Fantine! Little Oliver vs. Little Cosette! Seriously, compare/contrast "Castle on a Cloud" with "Where Is Love?" And of course, the musical's take on Fagin, who, on the sliding scale of sympathetic criminals, is firmly halfway in between Jean Valjean and Thenardier! Think of "Valjean's Soliloquy" vs. "Reviewing the Situation" vs. "Master of the House"!</p>
<p>But you came here for Les Mis fic, not my ranting about parallels between musicals based on 19th century novels with a lot of focus on the effects of poverty! So I'll shut up now! Please enjoy! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Surely</em>, Joly told himself anxiously as he disembarked the diligence coach in Mantes-sur-Seine, clasping the ticket and the letter in one hand, and moved to quickly drop himself into a chair at an empty outdoor café table, <em>surely there’s nothing to worry about; surely he is making the best of it.</em>  The “he” being, of course, Bossuet; the “it” being his latest misfortune; and “making the best” being Bossuet’s <em>modus operandi</em>. </p>
<p>Joly could never fail to smile as he recalled the way Bossuet could, with but a few witty jests, spin any dreadful disaster into a comic adventure.  Joly was not at all sure his mind was not the obverse of his friend’s – able to spin anything trivial nuisance into a dreadful disaster.</p>
<p>But Joly soothed himself by imagining a halcyon scene – of Bossuet, making a holiday of being stranded alone without a sou or a roof over his head in this distant city, lazily strolling the seashore, probably barefoot, gathering shells, spotting the shining heads of surfacing seals, gazing across the channel toward sunset on the horizon.  Next moment, however, the inevitable troubled storm clouds invaded this idyll, and soon enough the lightning strikes were chasing Bossuet across the beach, and there was a shipwreck and a pirate raid and –</p>
<p>“Sir? What’ll you have?”</p>
<p>Joly shook himself from this imagined drama and opened his eyes to observe a curious serving-girl.  “Oh yes,” he muttered, placing his ticket on the table to reassure himself of the timetable; it was slightly crumpled from how tightly he’d been clutching it, but it told him he had about an hour here in Mantes, while they changed horses, before the journey continued on, so he ordered a light supper of stew and, to lift his spirits, a bracing glass of sweet wine. </p>
<p>He was not exactly looking forward to the remaining journey.  It was quite a long ride to Le Havre (Bossuet must have been <em>terribly</em> drunk to have not noticed the problem before falling asleep most of the entire way), and as reading in a moving vehicle made him sick to his stomach, and it would be too dark to enjoy the scenery zooming by out the window, the ride was likely to be mind-numbingly tedious unless he could have an interesting conversation with whoever sat next to him.  The fellow who’d sat next to him thus far was getting off here, but Joly could not say he was sorry to see him go – while he’d seemed a nice old man, he’d had a persistent cough that set Joly’s nerves on edge.  And while some people (like Bossuet) could sleep just about anywhere, Joly always found, rocking in cramped quarters surrounded by strangers, that he could never get quite comfortable enough in either mind or body to settle into it.  At least on the way back, he’d have Bossuet to talk to and rest his head against; he might just be comfortable enough to sleep then.</p>
<p>That was, if the man in question wasn’t currently lying in a ditch, or struck by lightning, or kidnapped by pirates.  Joly in his morbid fancy could not help falling back into his half-tormenting, half-entertaining conjectures about the trials fate might be leveling at his friend.  The pirates now came ashore and were attempting to kidnap a beautiful young girl, a rich magistrate’s only daughter, to be held for ransom, but Bossuet stepped in to defend her, fighting a fierce duel with cutlasses against the relentless captain; they were about evenly matched until a fateful lightning bolt struck Bossuet’s sword from his hand.  Driven into a corner, he had no recourse against the death bearing down on him but a barrage of grave puns, which made the captain laugh so much as to reconsider killing him. But now he himself was being dragged aboard the ship in shackles, and thrown into the bilge where there was already an impaled skeleton and one other ragged living prisoner, his eyes shadowed and his cheeks sunken, slowly dying of some dreaded tropical disease . . .</p>
<p>Joly was just trying to sketch this unfortunate prisoner’s features when another haggard man staggered out of newly-arrived diligence coach and filled them in.  But the sight of this man immediately jolted Joly from his fanciful reverie; he <em>knew</em> this man!</p>
<p>“Marius!” he called, seizing his cane and rising to his feet.  “Marius Pontmercy!  Is that <em>you</em>?”</p>
<p>The man turned somewhat confusedly toward him.  His eyes seemed to scan through an index for a moment before he recalled: “Monsieur Joly.”</p>
<p>“Good <em>heavens</em>, Marius, you look dead on your feet!  Come!  Sit down – sit here with me!  Have you dined?”</p>
<p>“Erm . . .” Marius had allowed Joly to guide him to the café table, and obediently sat down opposite him.  He looked even worse up close – like he hadn’t eaten in days.  He was frightfully pale, with sunken cheeks, a vague wandering look in his eyes, and a tiny tremor in his hands.  One of them was self-consciously gripping his other elbow, as if he had a tear in his jacket that he was ashamed to show in public.  Well, now he’d run into Joly, he’d just see if he couldn’t put a little more color in his cheeks!</p>
<p>“Come, you must dine with me, then!” concluded Joly, smiling encouragingly.  “It’s on me!”</p>
<p>“Oh, n-no, I couldn’t possibly –” Marius began faintly.</p>
<p>“Oh, I <em>insist</em>,” said Joly firmly.  “It’s your lucky day, Marius!  My regular dining companion has got himself stranded a hundred miles from Paris, and I was just thinking how <em>dull</em> it is to dine alone!  So you shall profit by his misfortune!”</p>
<p>“But I – I really couldn’t –” Marius faltered.</p>
<p>Joly pressed his cane to his nose and tilted his head, considering Marius.  He was clearly starving – his eyes had fixed on the dish in the passing serving-girl’s hand with barely-concealed longing – and yet he refused?  It must be the money that was the problem – some issue of debt, or matter of pride.  Joly had almost forgotten that some people were like that.</p>
<p>“Do you know,” he said, changing tactics, “Courfeyrac told me you lent him sixty francs a while back?”</p>
<p>“Erm, yes.”</p>
<p>“Well, as it happens, I myself owe Courfeyrac money,” said Joly brightly.  It wasn’t <em>entirely</em> a lie – Courfeyrac had paid for his dinner once last week, but it wasn’t as if anyone was really keeping score anymore.  “So,” he concluded, “if I buy <em>you</em> dinner, it’s just cutting out the middleman!  I can repay my debt to <em>him</em> by repaying <em>his</em> debt to you!  Then two debts are reduced for the price of one!  Come, Marius!  You’d be helping both of us!”</p>
<p>Something like a smile finally alighted on Marius’s face as the serving-girl deposited Joly’s wine and dish of rabbit stew on the table in front of him, and thusly delivered the killing blow to Marius’s resistance by adding the visceral temptation of his deep hunger to Joly’s appeals to his logic and goodwill.  “Well,” he said at last, “if you insist!”</p>
<p>“Excellent!  I recommend the gibelotte – rabbits are very in-season, or I saw there was spatchcocked chicken –”</p>
<p>“No, I can’t,” said Marius decidedly.  “It’s Friday.”</p>
<p>“It’s – ?  Oh, yes!  <em>Friday</em>, yes!  No meat!  Catholic fasts!  Forgive me, Marius – I’m afraid we’re all a bit casual about such things!” He smiled apologetically.  “But there are certainly many other options that don’t break the fast!”</p>
<p>The serving-girl had stayed to hear this exchange, and now reeled off a list of meat-free options for Marius to choose from.  Marius had soon ordered a bowl of onion soup with bread, and Joly even prevailed upon him to indulge in his own glass of wine.</p>
<p>As the serving-girl departed to fetch Marius’s supper, an awkward silence fell between the two.  Marius was frowning, his eyes were downcast, and he was fidgeting with the buttons of his cuffs.  Joly thought Marius had an awkward air, but distinct from Jehan’s – it frowned rather than smiled in its embarrassment.  Joly himself was no stranger to a nervous temperament, but he suspected the things they worried about had little overlap.  And there was a grave and serious look in his eyes that was almost like Enjolras, except while Enjolras seemed to gaze so gravely at all the world, Marius was gazing at his own feet.</p>
<p>But Joly had always liked him and wished to know him better; he was evidently generous, and had always struck him as very sincere, quietly intelligent, and somewhat troubled.  And his heart softened more to witness the younger man’s half-starved pallor and obvious unease.  He wasn’t sure he was quite at Courfeyrac’s level of <em>instantly</em> setting everyone at ease, but he liked to think was probably less intimidating company than some of his friends.  Thus, praying there was nothing wrong with Marius’s health that a hearty meal could not improve (ominous thought!) he determined to try to improve his mood as well.</p>
<p>“So!” Joly said, at his maximum pitch of heartiness. “What a <em>fortuitous</em> meeting, Marius!  Outside of Paris, both of us alone, and settling so many debts at once!  Tell me, what brings you out to Mantes?”</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Marius, “well, I was just returning to Paris – but one of the horses went lame, so we had to stop here . . .”</p>
<p>“Oh?  And what mysterious adventures have you been having outside of Paris?  Something exciting, I hope!”</p>
<p>“Well, I was – gathering information – speaking to some old veterans – veterans from – from Waterloo, who lived out in Evreux,” replied Marius.</p>
<p>“Oh, indeed!” smiled Joly.  “Are you writing an article about them?  Expanded to editorials as well as translations?  Giving them a voice in the press?  I think we can all agree, however one feels about Napoleon, that the Restoration has treated those old veterans <em>abominably</em>!”</p>
<p>This seemed to encourage Marius.  “Well, it wasn’t for an article,” he admitted.  “The information I’m looking for – well, it’s <em>partially</em> business; there’s a man I owe a debt to – and someone told me these fellows in Evreux might know some details of how to find him – but it’s also partially –” Marius looked even paler and more deadly serious suddenly – “partially a more <em>personal</em> interest . . .”</p>
<p>He looked away, blinking, as if he’d said too much. The serving-girl returned with his soup, bread and wine.  Joly tilted his head curiously again, taking a spoonful of his soup while Marius murmured a prayer over his own, as he wondered what was really at the heart of all of this.</p>
<p>“Well, what a thorough researcher you are, Marius!” he finally said, when Marius had opened his eyes and begun eating.  “<em>I</em> should certainly never say a word against such a thirst for knowledge!  And what splendid things we can learn from history!  Do you know, an uncle of mine actually fought under Napoleon!  Though I never got to hear many of his stories, I’m sure they were fascinating!”</p>
<p>“Oh?” said Marius curiously.  “Do you – erm, do you still talk to him?”</p>
<p>“Well, no,” replied Joly, “because he’s dead. He died of typhus during the retreat from Russia – in – what was it, 1812?  Did you know that more French soldiers died of typhus than were killed by the Russians?”  A shiver ran through him at the thought, and he momentarily set his spoon down to take a deep breath and a gulp of his wine.  “<em>Horrible</em> way to die, poor fellows!”</p>
<p>“Yes, some of the veterans I spoke to had comrades who died that way,” Marius nodded.  “I wonder if . . .?” He trailed off, looking troubled.</p>
<p>“Don’t let’s talk of typhus,” said Joly decisively, attempting to dispel the thought with a vigorous shake of his head.  He then crossed himself, and added, “May Uncle Henri’s soul rest in peace, and may his body be buried deep enough that its contagion is beyond reach!  May both soul and body be <em>far</em> beyond the reach of the living world!”</p>
<p>“Amen?” said Marius, somewhat uncertainly, and Joly gave him another smile.  “Erm – I meant ask, about your uncle. Is the rest of your family –”</p>
<p>“They’re not Bonapartists,” Joly replied.  “They’re not really <em>anything</em> – they’re happy with the government as long as it lets them be comfortably well-off and stay that way, and otherwise leaves them alone.  They all thought Uncle Henri was a little mad, no doubt, just as they all think <em>I’m</em> a little mad, for all sorts of reasons, but –” he shrugged – “family is family.”</p>
<p>Marius gave an almost bitter smile, by which Joly understood that this sentiment did not reflect the truths of his own family.  Joly bit his lip, wanting to offer some comfort, but being unsure how to approach such a heavy, painful theme without prying.  Surely if Courfeyrac still knew so little, and he such an intimate friend, there was little hope for Joly somehow knowing just what to say.  Yet oughtn’t he to at least <em>try</em>?  It could never be right to simply <em>ignore</em> another’s pain, yet such a line of questioning might on the other hand only <em>increase</em> it, and –</p>
<p>“And you, Joly,” said Marius, pulling him abruptly from this troubled reverie, “what are you doing outside of Paris? You said – someone was <em>stranded</em> –?”</p>
<p>“Bossuet,” nodded Joly, “what we call Laigle, if you remember.  He’d had a bit too much to drink and <em>somehow</em> got onto the diligence coach instead of an omnibus, fell asleep and ended up in Le Havre with no money for the return journey!  He just managed to convince someone on the next diligence back to Paris to pass this note along to me, asking my help, so I’m going up tonight to rescue him.”</p>
<p>This missive – also slightly crumpled by his nervous hand-wringing – he produced from his pocket and passed along to Marius to peruse.  It ran thus:</p>
<p>
  <em>“My dear Jolllly – </em>
</p>
<p><em>Though it was the combined fault of myself, Grantaire and the brandy that brought me to my current plight; yet for your sake, I shall wish a plague upon only the brandy and not the men.  Indeed I thank Grantaire that I now breathe the grand air of the sea in port city of Le Havre, though it also means I must now beg you to pay an indulgence for my indulgence and free me from this most pleasant purgatory at your earliest convenience.  Pray do not make yourself uneasy on my account – I shall enjoy the free sea air immensely in the meanwhile, for such things require no capital, and it shall soon be but a jolly old tale we can laugh about; I laugh already, I assure you.  Think what a glorious rescue mission is before you, my friend!  You may soon be following Courfeyrac in his glorious career of knigh-errantry!  When you come, you shall likely find me haunting the coach-office like a spectre – not like an </em>in<em>spector, mind, for I do not interfere with the gamins’ business of destruction – and eagerly awaiting your fretful ministrations.  I presume to say “when you come” – for though you are a man of medicine, I should insult you to suppose it possible you will not come in due diligence to the aid of an unfortunate man yet fortunate enough to sign himself</em></p>
<p>
  <em>                                                                                                           Your Affectionate Friend,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>                                                                                                                           Bossuet”</em>
</p>
<p>The letter managed to wring a smile from Marius, and Joly ached to think how Bossuet, writing in his distress, had nonetheless been more preoccupied with making Joly laugh and setting him at ease with all the absurd puns and hearty reassurances than about his own situation.</p>
<p>Marius handed the letter back.  “You couldn’t just send him money for a return ticket?” he wondered.</p>
<p>“With <em>his</em> luck, somebody would steal it or drop it and it would never reach him,” Joly said matter-of-factly, “and he’d only be indigent that much longer!  No, I prefer to see it done myself, with my own eyes and my own two hands. And I come prepared – with food, wine, clothes, blankets – for he’s <em>sure</em> to have fallen in the ocean at some point!”</p>
<p>Marius nodded, and looked vaguely impressed.  “It’s a long journey to Le Havre,” he observed.</p>
<p>Joly nodded in agreement, but shrugged.  “He’d do the same for me.”</p>
<p>Marius looked thoughtful, and then spoke, softly.  “I could – I could come along, if you like?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I mean – if you wanted company, I could join you, on your journey,” Marius added timidly.  “And it shall not take me out of my way!  I think there’s – there’s another veteran I meant to consult with, who settled in Le Havre!”</p>
<p>Joly titled his head, and was not entirely sure if Marius was speaking true, or saying this only to lessen any sense of burden or obligation he might attach to this offer.</p>
<p>“And besides,” Marius added brightly, “surely I owe Monsieur Laigle a debt immaterial for helping me keep my place at the law school!”</p>
<p>“What an <em>honorable</em> fellow you are, Marius!” Joly exclaimed.  “Do you really mean it?”</p>
<p>“Yes!  Yes, of course!  That is –” he looked uncertain again, “that is if you’ll have me!”</p>
<p>Joly’s face split into a wide grin.  “Why, Marius, I’d be <em>delighted</em> with your company!  And Bossuet shall be delighted to see you, too, I have no doubt!  And to have such a grand rescue committee!  I shall go at once to get your place beside mine!” And he stood at once for this purpose. “You have saved me from hours of tedium, my <em>dear</em> Marius!”</p>
<p>And half an hour later, Joly and Marius were both happily trundling down the road to Le Havre, happily discussing the great German scientists that Marius had translated, smiles on their faces, color in their cheeks, making a dreary journey into a merry adventure.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So because I only came around to reading the Brick after becoming familiar with and fond of both Musical Marius (inoffensive, endearingly naive and lovelorn) and Shoujo Cosette Marius (an absolute DELIGHT, what a guy, what an arc, 10/10!) and therefore could never figure out how to deal with the more troublesome qualities of Brick!Marius, idk where on the scale this story's Marius falls. But I just like to see him getting closer to Les Amis as friends, I guess? Being kind of stiff and "severe" about debts and religious habits, but maybe these warm friendships are loosening him up a little, making him closer to those aforementioned uncomplicatedly-lovable adaptational Marii? After all, it's a truth universally acknowledged (by TV Tropes) that spending time with weird friends is great for character development! XD</p>
<p>Which is where Joly comes in, because I think he is not only very friendly and nice in general, not at all as intimidating as some of his friends could be, not to mention extremely concerned with everyone's health (and seriously, if Marius eats nothing but one chunk of meat for three days during a certain period? Yikes!) but also, as a quality of his optimism, he likes to see and focus on the good in everything and everyone! (Like cats!) Even in the Brick he seemed really excited for Marius having a girlfriend, and Musical Joly is the one to ask Marius, "What's wrong today?" So now I'm off on stanning this friendship . . .</p>
<p>As one can imagine, the most fun part of writing this chapter was of course Bossuet's pun-filled letter!  The true Bossuet/Victor Hugo undoubtedly does better puns than me, but we have to try, don't we?  And I also apologize if I got any geographical things wrong.  I was just consulting a Google Map of France to try and make the place names make sense!</p>
<p>So anyway, let me know what you thought! And as ever, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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